


Cocoon of Wings

by Silverhaunter



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff, Guardian Angel AU, HOORAY, IgNoct, Implied Smut, M/M, No longer technically sfw, Or Several, but no actual smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-28 07:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14444049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverhaunter/pseuds/Silverhaunter
Summary: “What will happen to you if I die? Will you be someone else’s guardian?”Ignis looks up from his book, setting it down, and walks over toward Noctis.“No. I am yours only. I will die when you do. You are the essence of my existence.”“I think I love you.”“I know I do.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on SoulMarshal's AU.  
> Find it here: http://soulmarshal.tumblr.com/tagged/guardian-angel-au
> 
> So, basically, I ran out of ideas toward the end.  
> Feel free to fill in gaps, if you send it to me I can add it and add you as a co-author, whoever wants to do this can feel free, or we can just add them to a collection or something, if you guys want. I really like this idea.  
> Thank you SoulMarshal, for giving me permission to write this!

Ignis, the man who calls himself the crown prince’s protector, only appears at Noctis’ side when others won’t see at first, brushing back locks of his silky noir hair with long, cautious fingers, and, when he sleeps, defending him from dark creatures the young prince cannot see. Whispering quietly with words of comfort, losing his thoughts staring at an unblemished young face circled by raven hair like a crown of midnight rain frozen in time and resting around a face of purity and beauty.  
  
Ignis first appears to the king when the crystal deems the boy the chosen, bathing him in the light that promises dawn, highlighting his features as he falls to his knees, he will not remember this, but Ignis will never forget it, wrapping the boy protectively in his arms. He holds the boy tighter, feeling the breath of mortality tickle his neck as the child presses ever closer to him, nuzzling against the naturally safe presence of his guardian. Ignis listens silently to the heartbeat of the child cozying up to him, feeling the warmth of the mortal body spread into his bones, lifting his wings from oblivion without even thinking about it, cradling them both.  
  
Regis, father to Noctis, weeps silently as Ignis gingerly raises his two massive wings from behind his body, pulling them from the invisibility of oblivion, feathers crisp, beautiful and ivory, painted with pure gold like metal. Ignis is truly a beautiful creature, the two appendages towering high and bend to fit around himself and his lovely charge, so the son does not see as his father cries, and the prince does not see the King stand still with shock.  
  
Noctis formally meets Ignis when he’s about seven, and they shake hands. Noctis smiles ever brightly, and Ignis tilts his head, smiling in return as small hands clasp his gloved fingers, spreading warmth into his body which is usually room temperature.

There is so much blood that can escape from the human body. The seraph knows this, he’s killed many assassins, but he is driven to horror when he sees the blood of _his_ Lucis Caelum spilled across grass and dirt, soaking into the ground without refrain.

 

Ignis _screams Noctis’ name_ with thousands of voices, and a high pitched noise radiates in the ears of the daemon who rises as he tears his glove from his right hand and lets the light of the crystal bathe the daemon in it’s demise. All that Ignis can think about is how he _wishes_ he was born from _hell_ like this creature so he could _tear it into bloody, dripping pieces_ instead of watching as it screams and writhes in the light which he bends into weapons that tear and rend at the beast’s body.

 

 _I am from a place far worse. Unfortunate creature. This mistake will be your_ **_last._ **

    Ignis holds Noctis in his arms and presses his glove-free hand to the wound which nearly cut through his spine. It seals, but he is not capable of much more. He nearly failed, and brushes his forehead, soothing the boy’s fluttering, faded soul with his own.

 

“I was not there to protect you. Please forgive me, I will never again leave your side.”

   

    He allows Regis and his soldiers to take the boy, and when they are far gone wails into the darkness and the world around him goes _absolutely still in fear_ as fire blooms violently into the night sky, and purges Insomnia and its surroundings of daemons with the heat of Ignis’ _hate._

_Nothing around him moves for a very long time. The gods stand still and the world holds its breath as the soul of the star beats steadily with power for the first time in eons._

 

    The young prince is plagued with nightmares, and Ignis rests in his bed, holding him gently and embracing him in a cocoon of his wings. Sometimes, silently, he weeps. But only when the boy is asleep.

   

    Slowly, things return to normal.

    Ignis helps Noctis relearn walking, and the young prince is solemn but smiles enough for Ignis to smile back.

 

Noctis has his first kiss when he is in Middle-School.

 

“Ignis, that was _disgusting._ ”

 

“Good evening, to you too, Highness.” Ignis keeps his tone nonchalant as he finishes the rice bowl he’s been making, glancing at Noctis several times.

 

“I kissed Nagisa today, and it was really gross, like, I figured it’d be awkward, but, seriously? She sucked on my lip. She _sucked my lip,”_ His face pulls into a grimace, “ It was all wet, and” Noctis gestures with his hands, searching for words, “ and I didn’t necessarily _want_ to kiss her, I mean, she wanted me to, she kept hinting at it, I mean, more so than the other girls, and I wanted to be a man, and she- It was the worst, she- I thought it was supposed to be, like a peck, Ignis!”

 

The seraphim cocks an eyebrow, “You don’t have to kiss somebody just to make them happy, especially if you don’t want to. Perhaps she didn’t know what she was doing?”

 

“She’s had her first kiss already, and _everybody_ was like, ‘she’s super crazy’, and I probably should’ve listened, but I figured they were just being mean.Don’t get me wrong, she’s cool, I guess, but it just… wasn’t my thing.”

 

“Perhaps it is just that you don’t like girls? You’re young, there’s plenty of time to figure out what you do and don’t like.” Ignis has never had to deal with sexuality the way humans deal with it, he’s always just found someone or something appealing or hasn’t, it’s never been complicated, he never had a reason to label it.

 

“I mean,girls are attractive, I just- I guess I don’t see them that way, usually, I don’t like, see myself _you know,_ **_with_ ** _them._  Maybe it was just her, I mean, she’s pretty, but, it’s just... “ He looks _incredibly_ uncomfortable, and Ignis silently laughs. 

 

“You don’t have to worry about it, Noctis. I will support you no matter who or what you decide you like, if anything at all.” he hands the young prince the bowl.

 

“Thanks, Iggy.” Noctis says, as he picks up the rice bowl, but he’s not just thanking him for the food.

 

“You do know how to be safe, though, correct?”

 

“Ig- No, Iggy, please, no.”

“Always use protec-”

 

“ **_Ignis! No!”_ **

  
  
One day, when Noctis is in High-School, he comes home and finds Ignis hissing with frustration, trying to pick a bloody feather out from his wings, straining to shift around to the place at the joint where neither of his arms will reach, brows knitted in pain and frustration.  
  
“Highness, may I ask a favor of you?”  
  
“Of course, Iggy, what’s up?”  
  
“I was careless, and while out dealing with daemons last night, I broke one of my feathers, and, it just so happened to be one of my blood feathers, as I’ve begun to molt, so I need to take care of it before it gets worse. I hate to ask, but I need your help, if you wouldn’t mind?”  
  
“Just tell me what to do.”  
  
“I need you to grab the spray bottle beside me, and put it beside you so you can spray that mixture on the bloody spot when you pull the rogue feather out, the towel is beside it, and so is the roll of bandages, grab both.”  
  
“Right.” Noctis grabs the spray bottle, towel and bandage roll.  
  
“Spray the wound first,” he does not move even as the antiseptic and water concoction disinfects the potentially infected wound, “I’ll try not to move, but if I flinch forward use the momentum to pull as hard as you can and spray the wound quickly but thoroughly, and dab it with the towel, even if it hurts me, and wrap under the upper joint and around the joint closest to my shoulder, at an angle, and then do it he opposite direction, take your time.”  
  
Noctis separates the bloodied feathers from the feather causing the damage and yanks it out of the wing, even as Ignis leans forward, the feather, crooked and soaked with blood comes out with a yank and the prince quickly sprays the wound, toweling it, and wrapping the bandage tightly.  
  
“Thank you, Noctis. Without your help, I could’ve bled myself out.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Bloodied feathers do not allow the wing to clot, as my feathers act as plating, strong and sturdy, they are meant to shift with my movements, it could’ve killed me, I did not care for my wings properly and thus I might’ve failed you. My apologies.”  
  
“Can I help?”  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
“With your wings, can I help you preen them?”  
  
“If you’d... like to.”  
  
“I would.” He says, a light blush crossing his features, “I mean, it’s the least I can do, right?”  
  
Noctis slowly combs his fingers through Ignis’ undamaged wing, enjoying the feel of the feathers, some of them slip through his hands and fall to the ground, a beautiful, small, mostly gold feather slips out of the fold and turns as hard as metal,  as it leaves Ignis’ body with the molt, and Noctis puts it beside him, “Can I keep this one?”  
  
Ignis looks back at Noctis with those gorgeous mint eyes and searches the prince’s face, “Of course.”  
  
“Do they become metal only when they fall off, or if you were to rip one out, would it become metal?”  
  
“Only when they molt, and, in a way, die, do they become metal. If I was to pluck a healthy feather it would do nothing but hurt. If someone was to seperate my wing from my body, it would take hundreds of years for it to turn to metal entirely.”

 

Ardyn Izunia, Chancellor of Nifilheim wears an Angel's long-dead wing on his left arm as armor. Ignis recognizes it as his once-protector, Gilgamesh's. In this world, Gilgamesh was taken from the void and turned into a Guardian. His soul still resides in this world, angry, and full of hate. Ardyn, after realizing what the gods meant to do, tore the wing from Gilgamesh's body, hacked and sawed at the root until it came free. Both of the appendages came lose, but not without pain, more so than losing an arm in one clean swoop. Ardyn was a cruel man, but his destiny managed to be crueler.

Scourge flows freely from him, Ignis tucks his wings as deep as he can into oblivion, gritting his pointed teeth, clenching his jaw and growling with the throat of a predator.

If Ignis is an apex predator, than Ardyn Izunia must be a human, for he bows to none, and destroys all who oppose him.

Ignis decides, if he were not an angel, he would be a black momba, and he would bite the man's leg, and watch him die.

The thought is a comfort, albeit a dark one.

 

  
  
  
Noct is nineteen when he is set to be betrothed to Lunafreya, and Ignis remembers it unbearably clearly.  
  
Ignis is sitting beside Noctis, on his bed, one foot propped up as they sit facing each other,he reads from Noctis’ red book, his other hand petting Umbra, the dog pressing his body up against the seraph’s comforting warmth.  
  
“Do you love her, Prince Noctis?” Ignis asks with only a glance in his direction.  
  
“Iggy, it’s Noct, and, I... I think I could, if I don’t already.”  
  
“Noct, the treaties will be discussed in exactly two years time. Your heart will find it can love her, she is kind, and she cares for you, truly. Her entire being is devoted to loving you, at it is hard not to devote an entire life to loving you.”  
  
“Are you speaking from experience?” Noctis teases, because Ignis doesn’t ever mind.  
  
Ignis only smiles, “Need you truly ask?”  
  
Noctis’ smile falters and his eyes go wide, but Ignis’ does not, as he continues reading.  
  
  
Noctis turns twenty and it’s almost uneventful.

  
Ignis is wearing a simple black shirt and black slacks, and lounging on the edge of the couch, his wings spread out on either side of him.  
  
Noctis tries really hard not to blush as he walks toward Ignis, and cards his hands through his feathers one last time to check for any stubborn strays that refuse to fall off properly at the end of this molt, and finds none, as Ignis tucks his wings into oblivion.

  
Noctis presses his hand to the pendant on his neck, a nearly-gold metal wing, from the first time Ignis let him touch his feathers, and let him keep one, making him a necklace out of it.

 

“ _To keep you safe when I cannot.”_  
  
“Have you ever kissed anybody?” Noctis _almost_ doesn’t realize he says it, but he does and goes _very_ still and _very_ pale.

 

Ignis tilts his head like a bird, and watches his face carefully, “Yes. Many lifetimes ago.”

 

“If I wanted you to kiss me, would you?” he adds, because _he can just say he was kidding._

 

“Perhaps one day, when you’re older.” Ignis whispers, and Noctis is only seventy percent sure he actually heard it.  


 

When Noctis turns twenty one, he’s supposed to meet with Gladiolus and Prompto to hang out, but he gets a little hung up on the way that Ignis is staring at him with those veridian eyes that could probably put him into cardiac arrest if he didn’t know any better, it’s hard to look away. The joke he’s about to make gets lost in his throat as Ignis stands up to meet him halfway to the door, and blinks those pretty eyes with those stupidly long eyelashes and clenches his jaw which could probably cut anybody who tried to slap him and--

 

“Something the matter?” Ignis says, tilting his head _just so,_ keeping his eyes partially lidded because _everything about him screams sex, and it’s unclear whether or not it’s intentional, and-_

 

“I’m twenty-one, now.”

 

“So you are.” Ignis raises his _stupid, annoying, horribly perfect eyebrow._

 

“That makes me older.”

 

“It would seem so.”

 

“Are you finally gonna kiss me?”

 

Ignis hums and tilts his head to give him a light kiss, soft and warm and very sweet.

 

Noctis grabs onto his lapels to drag him _down and closer._

 

Ignis presses Noctis down onto the bed _and his mind is lost._

  
  
  


“What will happen to you if I die? Will you be someone else’s guardian?”

 

Ignis looks up from his book, setting it down, and walks over toward Noctis.

 

“No. I am yours only. I will die when you do. You are the essence of my existence.”

 

“I think I love you.”

 

“I know I do.”

  


 

Ignis and Cor the Immortal have been friends since Ignis first appeared, and they spar quite frequently, as, Ignis is the only one in a pretty long time who can beat the Immortal when he’s at his best, and Cor still sometimes manages to gain the upperhand.

    Today, everyone in the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive seems intent on watching their fight, and Ignis pulls his weapons from Oblivion, two blades he helped a man in Lestallum create. “Until one of us can no longer battle.” Cor says, like he always does, and Ignis nods, “No elemental magic, two weapons each, set of daggers counts as one. Aim to cripple not to kill. No cheating, angel-boy.”

    Ignis nods, “Well in that case, if you could start us off, Nyx?”

    “Aight, 3, 2- everybody back up, I’m not kidding, okay, seriously, guys, back up, **guys”**

“Back up!” Cor shouts, and Nyx just sighs as everyone scuttles back.

“3, 2, 1, Fight!”

   

    Ignis immediately uses his momentum to throw himself backwards and make space between them, launching his daggers at Cor and using his supposedly long-forgotten polearm to follow up and grab his weapons again, sliding easily into a back-handspring as Cor nearly takes off his left arm.

    The fight goes on for what feels like forever, Ignis snaking easily across the field and Cor following up, blocking and then attacking in return.

    Ignis leaps and spins sideways getting a good kick in and getting Cor in the chest with his polearm.

    “Ignis wins!”

    “It was hardly a fair fight, I was given use of both of my weapons.”

    “So was I, you just cheated.”

    “I- oh. Oh, apologies.” Ignis folds his wings back into oblivion, “I forget they are unusual.”

    _Everyone is staring._

    “I- Should likely-”

 

    “ _You HAVE WINGS”_ A boy with yellow, spiked hair and a skinny frame is staring in the doorway in shock, followed by a Noctis who looks all too pleased with himself, before realizing his friend is still beside him.

    “Uh, Prompto-”

    “Oh my god, Noct!”

    “Prompto-”

    “Can you fly?”

    “Prompto.”

“What’s your name??”  
    “Pro.”

“Are you a god?”

    “Prom.”

    “How old are you?”

    “Buddy.”

    “Can I take a picture of them?”

“Oh my- Prompto!”

 

    “I can fly sometimes, my name is Ignis, I am only sort of a god, It’s easier just to say I am the age I look like I am, and you can take a picture if you must.” 

   

    Prompto takes _plenty_ of pictures, and is in awe at the beauty of the creature named for fire, who is just as capable of both life and death as the element itself.

Prompto doesn't mind.

 

    Gladiolus is not as impressed, or at least, he acts like he isn’t, and the next day they leave for Altissia.

Gladiolus, is, somewhat understandably apprehensive, as, he is the shield to the future-king, so it makes sense for him to question Ignis, despite how tedious and trivial the encounter is.

 

    Ignis tethers his mind to the place where all the gods tether their minds so that they may meet.

    The Glacian, Shiva, watches him with sad eyes, and he nods to her, slowly.

    Leviathan, the Hydrean, is docile in her rest, and usually is the kindest of the gods. Something is causing her to be restless, angry, and Ignis thinks it’s The Accursed.

    Ifrit, the Infernian is as absent as always.

    The Archean, Titan, glows with a soft golden light.

       

    “The covenant must be forged, should the Oracle pass- When the Oracle passes, and the King is taken under the wing of Bahamut, you must help to guide the people during the many years of darkness that will come with the vanishing of the King of Light, should the prophecy come to pass, and it will, you must fulfill your duty no matter the consequences you will face.” Shiva, she who speaks most frequently with Bahamut, tells him.

 

    “I will fulfill my duty, both to the Chosen and to the Star, so that he may fulfill his destiny, and purge the star-scourge from this land.”

 

    King Regis dies at the hands of a traitor, and Nyx Ulric dies to the Ring of the Lucii.

Ardyn Izunia stares with _extreme_ interest at not only Noctis, but Ignis as well, and takes great care not to touch the Seraph.

    _Ah, the Accursed._

 The Black Momba coiling inside Ignis' bones, a reminder of his anger hisses and gnashes, curling up in Ignis' ribs and making them shudder as if it were a rattlesnake, he presses his carnivorous teeth together and suppresses his distaste.

   

    Receiving the blessing from Titan is no easy feat, but it is accomplished.

    Ardyn Izunia, Chancellor of Niflheim once again makes himself known.

   

    Ardyn Izunia, Chancellor of Niflheim, The Accursed, true name: Ardyn Lucis Caelum kills Lunafreya, the Oracle, and Ignis realizes his duty must be fulfilled.

    He slips on the Ring of the Lucii, and gold runs down his face, pure liquid gold, flowing from what will soon scar, and leaving his irises a bright pink hue, “Whatever it takes, I will protect him!”

    Two wings turn to six, and he summons his divine weapons, showering golden flame down on The Accursed.

    “ _Noct!”_

 

       

 

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I have problems differentiating between some colors, so to me Noctis’ eyes during his god scenes are very, very, very, PINK. So pardon that discrepancy, I think they’re meant to be red? I’ve been told they’re red, by many authors, so I apologize if I am incorrect, and maybe they actually are pink and it’s not my color problem, and people just prefer them red? Or maybe it is my color problem, who knows!
> 
> I like Ravus so this diverges from canon a bit at the end, also, Mild Smut, so be warned!

 

Ardyn lifts Noctis’ head, and Ignis can only yell, “No! You can’t! Stop! Noct!”

Ardyn nearly brings the blade down onto his throat, but a dagger lands firmly in the ground beside him, and Ravus growls, a genuine, animal sound, and Ignis has never been so thankful in his life.

He exerts his magic to protect Ravus as best he can from the darkness, and a feather appears in the oracle-blood’s clenched hand. A blessing.

 

The ring sits heavy on his hand, but is a comfortable weight, despite the light burn it brings to his body. 

Then the burn makes him  _ scream  _ as one of his wings is severed from his body by the gods and their sacrifices, and his corporeal body cannot contain his magic.

Ardyn ‘Izunia’ watches with disturbed fascination as Ignis puts a hand to his eye and burns the left side of his pretty face, dripping molten gold from beneath his palm, mixing it with red hot blood that he spits up from biting on his cheek to steer the pain in a different direction, from anywhere but the sensitive muscle at the base of his shoulder-blades.

 

_ Ignis stifles a moan as Noctis’ fingers work around his tense muscle at the base of his wings, running his hands up the cords of muscles and tendons that cause his wings to protrude from his corporeal body, and his hips jerk slightly. He’d never let anybody touch him there before, so it was impossible for him to- oh, Noctis, cheeky bastard, he knows. _

 

_ “Seems like you’re really tense right here, lemme get that for you.”  _

_ Ignis endures five minutes of the painstakingly gentle, feather-light touches stroking up and down across his connecting muscle leading up into his wing before he flips around and pins Noctis against the bed with hot open-mouthed kisses, pressing their hips together as the young prince grinds up against him, a wanton moan slipping from his lips as he throws his head back, exposing his long, corded neck and clavicle. Ignis presses hot, burning kisses to his clavicle, and the hollow of his throat, grinding down and making Noctis writhe, before locking their lips together, teeth clashing, before they settle into a rhythm. _

_ “Highness, I have told you before,” He trails his lips along the young prince’s jaw, nipping here, licking there, trapping his arms above him and settling their hips together so he can hold the antsy thing still, grinding down carefully and making Noctis burn, “it is impolite to tease.” _

_ “I don’t-ah- remember that conversation.”  He puts his hands under Ignis’ shirt and rakes his nails across his back, making Ignis hiss and bite down hard on Noctis’ shoulder, making him cry out with a moan and grind his hips into Ignis’’, as he places a hand on Noctis’ throat, and growls. _

_ “Then I shall have to remind you.” _

 

Ignis screams and unfolds the remaining five wings, blood dripping messily from his back as gore falls from the wound, and he warps backwards, only to have Ardyn warp to him, close enough to touch, forcing him to take a step back.

“You angels sure are pretty little things, but you do die rather quickly when your wings are separated from your bodies. What a pity.” Ardyn caresses Ignis’ cheek with the blade, leaving a deep, clean gash, and Ignis leaps backwards, “Gilgamesh was my friend, I did not separate his wings from his body, but there are dark days when I wish I had, instead of the gods. I’ll make sure not to repeat the same mistake here.”

“I will not die here.” The seraph’s conviction bites into Ardyn’s flesh and he smiles, “Very well.”

They fight like mad dogs, trapped in a cage, without food or water, without love or affection, Ardyn sees himself, or the human parts, in how hellishly the angel fights, using his teeth if Ardyn gets close enough, and his polearm if he gets too far.

Ardyn kicks Ignis in the chest as the ring’s enchantment wears off. 

Ignis doubles over, his vision going cloudy and dark, he groans and falls to his side, with a whimper, dragging himself over to Noctis, and wrapping himself and his remaining wing around them. Energy thrums around him and he whispers quietly, “Deliver the Oracle to the heavens with my blessing. May she rest in peace.” His magic wraps around Lunafreya’s body, and delivers her to the gods, Ravus blinking and awakening with the rejuvenating properties of his holy light. Blood and golden energy leaks from his lips, and his vision fades, but he is still very much awake. 

“R-Ravus, are you there? I cannot-” He chokes on his own blood, and turns over, so that he does not cough up blood onto Noctis, “I cannot see.” He falls onto his back, and falls unconscious. 

Ravus carries the seraphim, and Gladiolus carries the King.

Ignis wakes up blind, and puts a black satin length of cloth over his eyes, because the doctors say it would be better than wearing glasses, since his eyes are hypersensitive to light.

He does not want to see the light, anyway. It will be gone soon, he needs to adjust to the 

Darkness as soon as possible.

Ignis stays near Noctis, and takes the ring from his finger, putting it in Noctis’ hand.

Noctis wakes up, and Ignis can only tell because his breathing his heavy and labored.

“Noct?”

“Ignis?”

“Umbra brought you the ring.” 

“O-Oh.” 

It’s a lie, but a harmless one.

“Ignis, a-are you blind?” 

He bites his lip and nods, slowly, “Yes.”    
“O-oh, what happened?”   
“A minor sacrifice in the greater battle.”

“L-Luna?”

“She has passed, her brother is here. Ravus fought by my side, he is here for my sake, he cannot return to the Empire.”

“They took Luna.”

“They did.”

 

“Ignis, c-can I see you?” 

Ignis has been crying  _ gold,  _ and Noctis immediately wipes away the strange tears.

“I apologize, I was crying for what you’ve lost.” 

“For me?”   
“Yes, since you will not, I thought it my duty that I did.”

“Oh,  _ Ignis.”  _

Noctis traces the scars on Ignis’ face and silent tears he hopes Ignis can’t hear fall from his face at the thought.   
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> See I ran out of ideas  
> So, if you want to fill in the gaps or work on this story with me let me know and I can put all the works in a collection or something I dunno


End file.
